Two Old Skeezers
by everyone'ssister
Summary: Tag for 12.16, Ladies Drink Free. The Winchester's aren't that good at coping or repression for that matter, but for two old skeezers Sam feels like they do pretty good.


TWO OLD SKEEZERS

 _Mick still remembers the first time he saw the Winchesters; American walls of muscle and violence defending each other and their mom. He'd thought they were formidable then. Then, when he knew nothing...nothing about them. He didn't know half their violence, half of their righteousness...half of their talents and abilities._

 _Working with Sam against the alpha vampire had been exhilarating and eye opening...Mary might be a great hunter but even she herself knew nothing of the force that were her sons. And the ever observant brit supposed this was exactly why she had chosen to work with the brits instead of them._

 _Dean and Sam Winchester. Men among men, warriors...handsome devils with smiles that softened like a punch in the gut when they looked to each other. In that connection Mick Davies was beginning to understand how it was these two men had more then once saved the world. And that was admirable, that was more than Mick could ever think to do._

 _They had been darkness itself...but they had beat that very darkness down to the dust for each other and for the rest of humanity._

 _Dean was a confusing blend of impulse and conviction, love and anger...tenderness and violence. Sam was book smart and considerate, he thought through things first...his emotions ran violent like Dean's and here they met. A marriage of two powerful persons making up the best duo the British man of letters had ever seen._

 _They lived somehow caring nothing for the outside world, yet fighting every day for it. They killed ruthlessly while somehow managing to relate with their opponents. They shut everyone out for the sake of their own safety and yet they drew everyone around them close...eager to be a part of something so special._

 _Mick had promised himself he wouldn't, promised himself he knew better, knew he was meant to be alone other than his superiors and his employees. But not Dean Winchester...Dean Winchester pushed him around and told him it wasn't that simple. That there was no line. And yet Dean and Sam lived by some sort of code some sort of something..._

 _It wasn't until he met Claire, a moody, lost kid taken under Dean's wing, the only person she would respond to, that he finally understood it. It was justice and humility. Humility that they refused to judge other people or monsters because of what they themselves had done and been...justice that no other being should be allowed to harm another and go unpunished._

 _So he watches Claire hug big, badass Dean Winchester bye and watches her mouth thank you to Sam and they smile at her and tell her "We'll have your back." And that's when Mick gets it. The code is simply 'saving people, hunting things...the family business.'_

...

Dean is unfairly silent on the way home. And it grates cruelly on Sam's nerves. They've barely been home over the past two weeks, and the night before had been the first proper shower either of them had taken in days. Dean had bragged on his rest but Sam knew from the looks of him what he really needed was twelve solid hours safe and unworried in his own bed.

They're both exhausted. Physically and emotionally. And Sam can tell Dean is on that edge he gets sometimes when he's angry and violent even though he doesn't know why or who he's angry with. And Sam gets it, he feels that way sometimes too, Sam is just scared this hunt may have screwed them over more then he thought.

They drop Mick off at the gate of the Brits headquarters and Sam can feel the way Dean hates the place, it emanates off him in waves...even knowing that their mom might be there Dean backs out with a screech and floors the impala.

They're riding dark roads back to the bunker when Sam finally breaks, just can't take it anymore, the building anticipation that Dean is angry with him, that when they get home they won't be able to escape from the judgement they've been sitting so heavily under from the Brits and their mom because it's between them now too.

"Are you blaming me?" He asks quietly from his side of Baby.

"Hhm?" Dean questions vaguely and Sam can see the distance in his eyes and it hurts.

"Are you gonna blame me for what happened with Claire?" Sam spits out, his anxiety making his words sound bitter.

That brings Dean back. He looks at Sam sharply, even turns down the radio, Sam watches in awe at the softening transformation. Sam feels like slapping himself, once again in his own haste and judgement he'd assumed Dean was blocking him out, blaming him...that was the Winchester way wasn't it? To assume they were blamed and that they were to blame.

"No, I don't blame you Sammy." Dean assures softly, a small smile gracing his lips and finally, finally...it's simply, purely Dean. No ironic twist to the smile, no challenging smirk...just Dean.

Sam feels the tension leave him in one, complete exhale. Lets all the air 'whoosh' from his lungs and his chest falls with it...and then he lets himself take a deep breath, filling himself with new clean air. He sends Dean a shaky smile finally letting himself completely rest in his brother's presence.

This is what he needed, this is what they needed. The two of them safely cradled in the impala's tried and true embrace. They needed a break for god's sake, yes, Sam was definitely turning their phones off.

Dean lets out a big sigh too and Sam looks over at him, the darkness outlining the tired wrinkles on his face, the hard line of his mouth slowly softening the more Sam relaxes, the more Dean relaxes. Where Dean's hands had gripped tightly around baby's steering wheel moments before, they now grow gentle and one falls entirely from the wheel into Dean's lap, and the fingers of the other hand tap a soothing, familiar beat.

"I don't blame you Sammy." Dean repeats as a way of getting started saying what he wants to say, as usually struggling for words when it came to himself and his feelings. "It's just..." he pauses turning his head to look away out the window to allow himself some space. "It was a hard hunt." He finishes with.

And Sam can feel the regret and guilt and sadness radiating off him. Understands it, shares it.

"I just feel like," Dean starts again, "Feel like we could have done better, could have avoided the whole ordeal. I mean we almost lost her...and then she'd just be up there on that list with Bobby, Ash and Jo and Ellen..." Dean pauses there, and Sam's reminded that he's not the only one that lives three quarters of the way in the past. Sam shivers with the roughness of Dean's voice, portraying the feeling running rampart through him right now.

"And then just to top things off, we owe it all to those douchebags that I hate, I hate...but without them we would have lost Claire and so now I can't regret meeting them and knowing them...and that just pisses me off to no end." Dean pauses, and Sam grins. Knows the Brit had raked endlessly on Dean's nerves, and Mick wanted to impress Dean, something about the boys had really hit the Brit hard, Sam could tell times of change were coming.

Mick would have a choice to make.

"Well," Sam says slowly, "Like you said I hate it, I really do. But also like you said, it was a win and that's what counts."

Dean purses his lips and throws a glare towards Sam, "Stopping quoting me to me to make me feel better...god, speaking of douchey." Dean shudders and Sam laughs.

"It's not my fault you're such a philosopher," Sam shoots back. And laughs, dodging the paper cup Dean chunks at him.

"Shut up."

"You shut up and I'll shut up."

"Little bitch."

"Humongous jerk."

Dean just makes a face and glances at his watch for the time, "11:30, you hungry?"

Sam smiles, "Oh yeah, I was thinking something other than burgers and fries though."

"Panda Express?" Dean asks, knows Sam loves that, and if Dean was being honest, he does too. They were both suckers for Chinese food.

Sam nods eagerly and Dean makes a last minute turn onto the exit, knows the road by heart, he and Sam had visited this Panda Express many a time after late hunts when they wanted something better than McDonald's or Burger King, and felt that they deserved it.

Sam sends Dean a slightly horrified glare at his driving but doesn't say anything, squinting his eyes in the lights of the town they were pulling into. Dean contentedly smirks, knowing exactly what was on Sam's mind and purposely butchers the turn into the restaurant. Sending Sam skidding across the seat and crashing into Dean.

"Dean..." Sam starts scowling and gathering himself up again, intentionally pushing just this side of too hard all over his brother while getting himself up and back to his side of the car.

Dean laughs breezily and brushes Sam off, groaning a bit as he climbs out of Baby and rolling his shoulders to loosen up the sore muscles there. Sam watches him carefully just to make sure everything was safely in working order. Dean seems to read his mind.

"You good?" He asks, as their steps drop into tandem walking across the parking lot.

Sam copies Dean's movements and rolls his shoulders clear of any tension, "Yeah," he affirms sending a sweet smile to his brother, "Headache, but other than that I'm pretty good."

"Yeah, me too." Dean says softly, smiling.

And they're at that point where the exhaustion feels good, it's fulfilling and assuring, they have done their job well, they deserve a break...good food, a decent night's rest. They are at long last being allowed the much needed rest of being comfortably alone with each other, all threats and untrustworthy allies finally gone.

Dean goes to order their food while Sam confiscates his phone and turns both of them off, Dean sending him a look like 'I'll let you get away with it just this once' Sam laughs. Dean is such a push over. A few minutes later his older brother sets steaming bowls in front of him which makes Sam take an inhale of hot delicious smelling air.

Sam sends him a happy, contented look.

"Thank you, kind sir." He says with a cockney accent like Mick's, attempting to blind Dean with a innocent smile. Dean doesn't fall for it.

"Don't even start with me, Sam." He states, eyes glowing with anticipation as he picks up his fork.

Sam simply giggles, "Mick really likes you, Dean."

"Sam..." Dean warns.

"He just wanted to impress you."

Dean rolls his eyes. And they both laugh, but then Sam frowns.

"Something different about him," Sam muses, swirling his straw around in his drink.

"You're talking about his conscious." Dean says flat out, as always getting Sam.

"Yeah," Sam agrees, "I think his set in stone belief that the Brits do everything right is getting shook up...by you especially." Sam grins at his brother and he's not surprised by the affect Dean had on Mick Davies...Dean was the best and most violent man Sam knew...and that balance was often terrifying if not a bit awe-inspiring.

Dean rolls his eyes in an attempt to shake off Sam's words, "Mick is a curious intellectual, Sammy, that's about as far as his interest goes in us, or me at least...they just want to understand us and write about us in one of their books and then probably do tests on us or some shit."

Sam laughs at that and Dean echoes it softly.

"I don't know, Dean." Sam says, and Dean sighs.

"Seems a little late to be taking in recruits," Dean says studying Sam, a shrewdness coming to his eyes.

"I know, and that's not what I'm suggesting I'm just saying, Mick is curious, but most of all he's confused and conflicted...lets just give him some time. He didn't screw us over that was Toni Bevel and mom."

Dean's face darkens at that, but he shrugs easily, "You're right, I guess he's not all that bad...kinda just like having two of yous." He smiles sweetly to Sam's exasperated face. "Be nice Sammy." He prompts with a stupid grin when Sam opens his mouth to retort.

Sam just shakes his head and takes another bite of his food instead of taking the trouble to answer his ridiculous brother.

They finish their supper in comfortable silence, with occasion laughs and knowing looks all the talking they needed. When they both let out a contented sigh in sync they smile and feel finally, for the first time in weeks, fully at peace.

"Well," Sam says wiping his mouth with his napkin, thinking about the run of hunts they'd had, and every single one of them ending in triumph, "I guess for two old skeevers we didn't do too bad."

"What's that?" Dean asks, his full stomach giving that hazy, contented look to his eyes. He's already rising and gathering his wallet and phone ready to make the last couple-minute trip home and to bed.

"Claire said we were old skeevers." The younger Winchester half-lies, half tells the truth.

"Speak for yourself Sammy," Dean says over his shoulder, already making for the door. "Speak for yourself."

...the end.

Hope you guys enjoyed! REVIEW!? ;);)

I loved this episode a lot. Mick and Claire were perfect...I kind of really want Mick to become a good guy now. :)


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